Somehow Familiar
by Ghostly Green
Summary: The events leading up to & following Louis, Lyla, and August's reunion. After "August's Rhapsody In C Major," Lyla, Louis and August decide to give life together a try... though a family like theirs wouldn't be without their ordeals. Fluffy, M for later.
1. A Whimsical Melody

**Quick A/N: For each chapter, I'll include a song or a playlist of songs that helped influence and inspire the chapter. That way, if you want, you can get the whole audio/visual/mental experience, if you will, and hear what I'm hearing (if you so wish).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone affiliated with August Rush, nor do I intend to make a profit off of this story. I wish I owned JRM, though... Darn.**

**Suggested song: "August's Rhapsody" by Mark Mancina from the August Rush soundtrack. **

Lyla stopped.

The familiar notes jarred her senses, and her eyes opened wide in recognition. For a moment, she wanted to run away; the tune was too similar, too much like the piece she had played that night… the night she had met Louis.

The night her sweet, baby boy was conceived.

It was a magical night, and not merely because of the intimate moments that followed their meeting. The raw honesty in Louis' eyes as he spoke to her was entrancing, and Lyla felt hypnotized, trapped in his spell. In the span of a few hours, Lyla had learned about his habit of talking to the moon, that he was in a band, his favorite color was green (though he seemed a bit surprised as he said it), and that his older brother Marshall had picked on him mercilessly for being so shy and socially awkward. She also learned that he loved a strong cup of coffee, missed his mother terribly, could not remember his father, that he lived for music and it filled his very soul, and that he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

She blushed at that thought; would he still find her beautiful now that she was older and more careworn? The constant crying and frowning the last 11 years had aged her face some, and the sleepless nights she had spent alone practically gave her permanent dark circles around her eyes. The few stretch marks she had from her pregnancy had faded with time, almost completely from sight… but were they to ever express their love in a similar fashion again, she was sure that his gentle, yet curious and loving exploration of her body would reveal her less than positive physical attributes.

If she ever saw him again.

If he wasn't already married with other children.

The thoughts flashed through her head in an instant before she was compelled to turn around, _pulled _by the music. It was more than the melody and the beautiful swells of the orchestra – it was a feeling that grabbed onto her heart and forced her forward. It was like hearing a voice crying out to her –

_Find me._

_Please, find me._

In a dreamlike state, she slowly walked back to the crowd.

--

It had been a fantastic show, and Louis was glad that he had chosen to perform again. The Connelly Brothers had been a real hit (not that his mates had honestly worried), and their ride back to their hotel room was loud with their celebrations.

Louis rolled down the window, hoping the fresh air would clean out the stench of their sweat. As he did so, the car was filled with the sound of a cello being played; rich, deep, and calling out to Louis in a way he'd never known before. His mind flickered to Lyla, dismissing it in an instant as she was, much to his despair, on her honeymoon. And yet…

He leaned forward, tapping the driver's shoulder. "Hey, what's that?" He asked, curious.

"The concert's in the park every spring."

It wasn't quite the answer Louis was hoping for, though what he _was_ hoping for in that answer remained a mystery to him. The dark, frenzied turn the music had taken immediately set him on edge, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. He wasn't sure what compelled him to look up at the banner waving from the street lamp, but he was instantaneously shocked, relieved, and frantic at the sight of it.

**Guest Cellist: Lyla Novacek**

Lyla? _His_ Lyla? The one who was off, married –

"Let me out." He said, his voice quiet and filled with confusion. Adrenaline rushed through him and he heard himself shout, "Let me out! Let me out!" as he pushed his way out of the car. Blood was pumping through his veins as he sprinted down the street. The music had quickened its tempo, and with the crescendo he felt himself run harder, his feet beating even faster against the pavement. He should have been exhausted, but the adrenaline was constantly reenergizing him. As he entered Central Park, the music had quieted down, and all he could prominently hear was the wind section softly calling out to him.

_Find me._

_I need you._

_Please, please find me._

As if in a trance, Louis began to move into the crowd, following the quiet voice that spoke to him through the music.

--

She couldn't stop herself from moving forward, though she couldn't begin to fathom why. Slowly, as if in disbelief, she pushed through the crowds. The music was quiet, the three note theme simple and beautiful to her ear. But more than that was the voice calling to her, the voice she had been told wasn't real. The voice of her boy, her Evan. A little girl's voice softly came through the speakers, handling the difficult runs with ease. _Anything is possible,_ she thought to herself. Lyla began trying to focus on the small figure conducting the orchestra with little to no movements of his arms. She didn't want to believe it could be him -- a mother's heart could only take so much disappointment -- but so many strange things had happened – it couldn't be him, could it?

--

Louis sprinted up the hill, his heart pounding in his chest. As he reached the edge of the crowd, he stopped and stared, catching his breath. His eyes were lit up with excitement; finally, after a decade of wondering and pining, he would see his beloved again.

The music began a slow and steady crescendo, building with the gradual addition of other instruments (such as the guitar, he was pleased to hear). The beauty and magnificence of the song's 3rd movement was filling his heart in a way that almost made it feel whole again – it was lifting him and giving him hope, letting him see the world in an entirely new way. He began to move through the crowds, pushing people without apology; either Lyla was onstage, or she'd be up close to the front. There was no way that she couldn't feel the pull of the song, that she didn't feel drawn to it in a way that shook her bones and warmed her heart.

If he was to find her, it would be close to stage.

With every step he took, the voice grew louder.

_I'm here! I'm here!_

_I wrote this for you!_

Suddenly, the theme changed and he staggered back – "Moondance." It was as though the Rhapsody had been written for him and Lyla, as though the composer knew them intimately through music. His heart pumped wildly and he continued to push his way through the crowds. It was a sign. It HAD to have been a sign.

--

When the young girl hit that final, perfectly on-pitch note, the theme smoothly changed to "Moondance," a song she hadn't listened to after she thought she had lost the baby. It was as though an invisible hand was clenching its fist around her poor, battered heart. It was beautifully arranged with interesting staccato syncopation with the guitar, and the music swirled around her as though it were alive, inviting her to dance. But she continued to press on, spellbound by the sounds of the orchestra as they moved into the main theme again.

The conductor was a small man – no, a boy.

A boy.

Her heart almost stopped.

--

Even when Louis was close enough to see that Lyla was not in fact playing on the stage, he couldn't bring himself to be disappointed or to leave. While he wished it was her playing that called out to him, his eyes and ears were fixed on the little boy conducting and the recurring theme that was masterfully being reintroduced.

A strange feeling came over Louis just then, as though he were missing something. Hope filled him and, unwilling though he was to turn from the conductor, he looked to his left.

His breath caught.

Lyla.

It was as though everyone around her had faded away and left her perfect face for him to gaze on. He began to doubt that she was real when she began to step forward, perfectly in time with the rising orchestra and the driving four notes of the strings. He pushed forward, unwilling to lose her now that he'd finally found her.

--

Focused entirely on the little boy conducting, she pushed her way forward. It was him – it _had_ to be him. It _had _to be his music calling out to her, begging her to find and love him. Lyla stopped just in front of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, praying that he was in fact her long-lost son.

Nothing else mattered, nothing—

And as the horns joined the still rising song, a warm hand enveloped hers. Shock ran through her and, disbelieving, she looked up into the face she had dreamt about every night for the last 11 years.

During a blissful 20 seconds, they had an entire conversation without saying a single word.

Wonder filled her eyes. _It's you._

He gazed back, reassuring and loving. _I knew that I would find you._

Her hand slowly grasped his.

--

August's eyes opened, his body shaking with excitement, and he was filled with optimism and hope.

He could feel them.

Could he finally be… found?

--

Lyla let out a soft laugh, her dazzling green eyes sparkling in the light. Louis was slightly confused as she looked back up at the stage, and he turned too to see what she was looking at.

The conductor?

…

His eyes widened in realization –

_Louis couldn't help but pity the poor kid; alone in New York City and obviously depressed. When he dropped the money in his guitar case, the boy looked up at him and Louis had to try not to react._

_That achingly familiar, sweet face. The sweetly upturned nose and pain-filled eyes – his eyes? No, just pretty blue eyes._

_August Rush was an odd name, and probably not his real name… but he didn't want to scare him away by accusing him of lying._

_Louis didn't understand why he felt the urge to spend time with this young boy, but playing with him and seeing that smile on his face made him feel more alive than he had in years. When young August had told him that he was a student at Juilliard and that he had a concert that evening, he almost wanted to laugh and tell the kid that he had a marvelous imagination. But something about the kid's face stopped him, forced him to believe his absurd statement. The sadness in August's face when he said that he couldn't be at his own concert brought out an instinctive, protective urge to take this boy away from whatever pain he was experiencing; Louis couldn't deny it that the boy reminded him of the only girl he had ever loved, and all he wanted to do was take care of him._

_But he had to leave, and did so with a ruffle of August's hair and a few important words of advice. He couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity; he had to buckle down and make himself not look back after he heard the boy's soft voice call out, "Bye."_

"He's ours, isn't he?" It was hardly even a question that needed to be asked. Lyla turned to him, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"Yes. He must be – can you feel him?"

--

His rhapsody was finally ending, but August could scarcely finish conducting. The pull of his family's eyes on him turned him around, and in that moment, he met the eyes of a beautiful blond-haired woman. She was staring up at him with so much love that he just knew, he knew that she must be his mother. He turned to see the man beside her, and a thrill ran through him – Louis! The amazing guitarist from the park, the one who gave him the courage to run away from Wizard, the one to inspire him and cheer him up when he'd been so down! He held his breath, waiting for a response from Louis, and a grin lit up his face at Louis' nod.

The final four chiming notes of his rhapsody brought tears of joy to his eyes.

_I am finally found._

**A/N: Wow, my first story in years... I've been an "August Rush" fan for a while now, and I felt so inspired that I stayed up all night to finish this (even though I have a test in 5 hours...). I hope you enjoy it -- sorry if it's rough, I didn't have much time to edit it since I was so rushed... well, that and I lack a beta-reader. There are so few AR fics out there, and the ones that are written aren't being updated. I guess I just got tired of waiting. In any case, I'll hopefully update again soon! Please R&R -- that fantastic button is just CALLING to you... :D.**

**-- Ammi**


	2. Much To Discuss

**Disclaimer: August Rush belongs to Warner Brothers and its affiliates. I'm a poor college student -- I own nothing but the shirt on my back and the top ramen in the cupboard. **

**Suggested song: "Be Here Now" by Ray Lamontagne **

As soon as the music stopped ringing through the air, there was utter silence for almost 10 seconds. August was too focused on his parents to care about the stunned sea of faces, all with their jaws dropped and their eyes misty – until the slow break of applause came. It seemed to wake up the thousands of people in the audience, and soon everyone was loud and screaming, the thunderous waves of applause letting August know that his music was appreciated. He smiled and, with a gesture from Louis, took an awkward bow, before running offstage into the arms of Mr. Jeffries.

"Evan, that was simply… amazing. I…" Mr. Jeffries seemed momentarily lost for words. He closed his eyes and seemed to collect his thoughts. "What made you change your name? It made it impossible to find you, I was worried sick!" August felt guilty for worrying Mr. Jeffries, but the excitement of finding his parents overwhelmed every other emotion. Just then, the beautiful woman with the curly blond hair came running backstage, Louis running right alongside her. Somehow, she managed to remain incredibly graceful, even though she wore a long white dress and high heels. August immediately felt a little awkward in the presence of such a lovely woman. He looked up at Louis, who had his arm wrapped tightly around the waist of the woman he was sure was his mother, his face filled with wonder. Mr. Jeffries cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed at the silent intensity of the moment. He felt like an intruder, and yet it was time to do his job.

"We don't have any tests to prove it yet, but I'm fairly certain that… Evan, I would like you to meet your mother, Lyla Novacek. She's been searching for you. And this is…?" He gestured towards Louis, looking confused.

"His da'." Louis said, tears welling in his eyes at the statement. His voice sounded rough, and his accent was thick and heavy with emotion. "I see you made it to your concert. Was it all you wanted it to be?" August nodded, hope and fear simultaneously choking him up and quieting his voice.

"Yes… sir." Unsure of what to call him – da? Dad? Father? He stuck with the 'sir,' though he felt a bit silly. Louis cautiously stepped forward and reached out his shaking hand, finally resting it on August's head. He ruffled his hair and let out a short laugh, sounding more like a bark than anything. He knelt down to August's level, finally meeting his son's eyes in a way that almost felt intrusive. But August was so nervous and so happy at meeting him, he barely minded. Louis' eyes searched his, hopeful and stunned. Hesitantly, he held out his arms. August launched himself into them, burying his face in his father's shoulders to hide his tears. His small body was literally shaking with his sobs, though he tried to calm himself down. Louis held onto him, rubbing soothing circles on his back and whispering in a strange language that August had never heard before. It was comforting and it felt like home, strangely enough. August's tears had slowed with the calming sound of his father's voice, and Louis pulled back a little, holding onto August's shoulders.

"You can call me whatever you like, I don' mind. I'm right here for you." Louis smiled at him and turned to Lyla, who was wringing her hands and shaking from excitement and fear. "Now, I believe it's time you met yer Ma," he said, pushing August forward towards her. Lyla sank down to her knees and looked at August so hopefully that it almost broke his heart. He walked forward slowly, hoping to preserve the moment in his mind forever; her eyes shining in the dark with unshed tears, her quivering smile, and her softly clenching hands. August paused as he got closer to her.

"Can I… hug you?" He asked her softly, his eyes downcast. He felt her finger pushing his chin up, and he found himself staring into her beautiful green eyes. She very gently pulled him into a hug, and he could hear her sobbing into his shoulder.

"I always knew you were alive, I always wanted you." She cried, holding onto him tightly. August, too, was crying, clinging onto his mother like he had never held onto anything before. "I could hear you; I could hear your music. I knew I would find you, they said I was crazy, but I knew I could hear you!" They were both pulled into a pair of strong arms, and that strange language filled August's ear again. August could scarcely believe his luck – the parents he had dreamed about for years were finally here, holding him. When his parents pulled out of the hug, his mother held his hand and his father rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Are we going home?" August asked, looking at his mother. She hesitated, her smiling waning as she turned to Mr. Jeffries.

"What is the, um, the legal process in this situation? Since I never willingly gave him up for adoption and he's been found…" She trailed off, her hope dying at Mr. Jeffries look of resolve.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Novacek, Mr.… ah," Mr. Jeffries floundered for a moment.

"Connelly," Louis filled in for him, his grip tightening on his son's shoulder.

"Mr. Connelly," Mr. Jeffries repeated. "Unfortunately, Evan is a ward of the state. Until a hearing with a proper judge, you are not recognized as his legal guardians." Her face crumbled and Louis' lips tightened in anger.

"Now, I don' know all of the details – frankly, I have no bloody idea what is going on!" Louis said exasperatedly. "All I know is that August is my son, and I don' frankly care for your legal processes." Mr. Jeffries sighed and rubbed at one of his eyes.

"The best that I can do for you right now is to take you to my office, take samples of your DNA, and have it shipped over-night to a lab where they can prove that you are Evan's parents." Mr. Jeffries looked at them wryly. "Not that I doubt that you are his parents in any way; your strong family resemblance and obvious connection says a lot to me. I'll be breaking office regulations by opening up after hours, even for a special case such as yours. Can we keep this our little secret?" They nodded, solemn faces all around. "Ms. Novacek, I know that you don't live in New York City – where exactly will Evan live? Where will he continue his education? And Mr. Connelly, will you be staying with them? Do you both have suitable jobs at the moment and the funds to raise a child? These are all questions that you should have answered and taken care of before you find yourselves in front of a judge, trying to win custody. So long as you have the means with which to provide for Evan, I'm sure that the judge would approve of your case without much fuss." August's mother nodded.

"That's incredibly helpful, Mr. Jeffries. Thank you." She bowed her head and then enveloped August into a warm and blissful hug. As she pulled away, August started to feel sick.

"Will I… will I have to go back to the orphanage?" He asked, his chin quivering.

"I can make arrangements for you to stay at an orphanage in the city – would that be better?" Mr. Jeffries asked.

"And we'll visit you every day until you're ours again." His mother added, her pretty eyes intently focused on him.

"What about… what about Juilliard?" August asked.

"We can make special arrangements for that, Evan." August smiled weakly at Mr. Jeffries. "In the meantime, I suggest we head for my office. You all must be exhausted." Lyla stood up, still clutching August's hand. Louis took a hold of August's other hand, and they all followed Mr. Jeffries to the street. They shared a cab, August and his parents in the back, and Mr. Jeffries sitting up front with the cab driver.

"It seems you have two names, kid." Louis said, gently elbowing him in the side.

"Yes, what would you like us to call you?" His mother asked, her nails gently scratching his head. August sleepily contemplated.

"I… I grew up as Evan, but there are a lot of bad memories that go with that name. I never really minded it, but I like the name August. I've never met another August before..."

"August, then." His mother said firmly. "We'll call you 'August'." He nodded, finally dozing off on his father's shoulder. Without any prompting, Louis lifted him onto his lap and held the boy tightly, his thumb gently rubbing August's temple.

"Out like a light." Louis said softly to Lyla, a wry smile on his face. She bit her lip gently, a smile forming. "After we drop our boy off, can we have a talk?" He asked. Her face fell, but she nodded. "I only want to know where you've been all of these years and how this… how this whole thing came to be." When he didn't get much of a response, he added, "I missed you every day." Her frown lifted into a shy smile.

"I missed you too."

"Is there…?" He hesitantly asked.

"No." She said quickly. "There was never… there was never anyone after you." She looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "You?"

"No one could replace you, though they tried. You were the only girl I ever wanted." With that, he unwrapped an arm from around August's waist and gently touched Lyla's face. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes, breathing his scent in deeply. "It was a constant ache, not having you with me. I'm just… there are no words to express my happiness right now." Lyla's smile made his heart thud in his chest.

"I know what you mean." She said, and she turned her face to kiss his hand gently. He breathed in deeply, content for the first time in 12 years.

After Louis and Mr. Jeffries split the cab fare (as Louis refused to let Lyla pay), Louis carefully carried August into the darkened public office. Lyla sat next to Louis, resting her head on his arm and gently stroking August's hair with one hand. With a little difficulty from the sleeping August, they took cheek-swab DNA tests from the three of them, and Mr. Jeffries filled out the paperwork for the lab.

"The results should be back in about a week; after that, you can gain custody of August from the state." He gave them a meaningful look. "I have a feeling that you two would like this to be done and over with as soon as possible, yes?" They nodded fervently, tightening their grip on each other's hand. "Then it would be wise to schedule a courtdate as soon as is possible; I doubt they'll have any openings in the next week or two, but maybe with a recommendation from me, we can speed up the process?" They both broke out in wide, shining smiles and nodded, expressing their thanks over and over. He held up a hand, calming them down a bit as he reached for the phone. "I need to find accomodations for August, please excuse me." Mr. Jeffries called a nearby orphanage, apologizing for the lateness of his call, but explained the situation and let them know that he and August would be arriving within ten minutes.

"We're very close to the orphanage. I think it's a few blocks away – we could easily walk there in a few minutes." Mr. Jeffries explained a bit wearily. After some gentle shaking from Louis and Lyla, August's eyes opened, though he was a bit groggy from the nap.

"We're going to go to the orphanage now – would you like walk with us, or would you like to go back to sleep?" Lyla asked. August closed his eyes and fell back into sleep, and Lyla tried to stifle her giggle. "I suppose we have an answer." Her voice was light and happy, and Louis got the feeling that she hadn't been happy in a very long time.

They walked in silence, Louis carrying little August with ease. The walk was indeed short, and in a few minutes they found themselves inside of the small orphanage. Louis carried the small boy to bed, and he and Lyla tucked him in together. August woke up for the goodbyes, and after a kiss goodnight from them both and making them swear to come back the next day, he drifted off to sleep. Lyla quietly drank in the sight of her long-lost child, and though teary-eyed, she smiled as she took Louis' hand and left the room.

"Should we make any appointments with you, Mr. Jeffries?" Lyla asked. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

"We can have a chat before your court-date – I'll give you a call in the morning after I set it up."

"And the paternity test? Will you call us when the results are in?" Louis asked anxiously. Mr. Jeffries nodded and gave a very tired smile.

"The moment I receive the results, I'll call you both." He promised. They said a quick goodbye, thanked Mr. Jeffries again for his help, and stepped back out into the night air.

"Where would you like to talk?" Lyla asked Louis apprehensively. His smile sent an excited shiver through her.

"I know a place where we can grab a nice cup a' coffee."

"You Irish and your coffee." She said, chuckling.

"Ah, yes lass – we Irish are very serious about our coffee. The caffeine is essential to our way of life – how else do you suppose we came up with such silliness as leprechauns and fairy rings?" She burst out laughing. "It was a caffeine-crazed Irishman who came up with that rubbish, not some superstitious scholarly fellow." The corners of his mouth were barely turned up, as he was desperately trying to keep a straight face.

"Is that true?" She asked, playfulness in her eyes.

"No idea." He said, finally laughing as he slung an arm around her. "Onward, lass – we have much to talk about."

**A/N: Thank you to my 2 lovely reviewers -- you guys really brightened up my day! Sorry it took so long to come out with the next chapter; things got a bit hectic with my job and my landlord. I should have another chapter out ASAP!**

**-- Ammi**


	3. Memories

**Disclaimer: I hope I don't have to do this for every chapter, but just in case... I do not own anything or anyone affiliated with the movie "August Rush," nor do I intend to make any profit off of it.**

**Suggested songs: "Scratch" by Kendall Payne & "Lily Dreams On" by Cotton Mather **

They walked in silence, still reveling in the strangeness of the evening.

_I found her,_ Louis thought in wonder. _I finally found her… and I have a son!_ The initial fear of being a father had faded within 10 seconds of seeing the boy's face; his boy was gifted and kind, and he was the product of the most perfect night in Louis' life. Little August was an 11 year-old genius who felt the music in the same amazing way that he and Lyla did… He had the face of a cherub – the face was Lyla's through and through, but that smile and those eyes were all his. His chest swelled with an odd sort of pride at the thought – he was part of a family!

…Well, almost.

Lyla's thoughts were in a similar place. _My son, I finally found my son! And at the same time… I found Louis. He didn't run away the way that Daddy said that he would…._ She smiled to herself, lost in a surreal sense of bliss. _Now, what do I tell him? How do I even start? _Where_ do I even start?_ In the end, Lyla decided to wing it; Louis would understand. If the shock of suddenly becoming the father to an 11 year-old boy didn't send him running, then she was fairly confident that nothing else she could say would scare him off.

Louis suddenly grabbed at her elbow and tugged her into a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. There was a counter with 5 or 6 barstools, a mellow indie-folk band playing in the corner, and a few booths. They slipped into the only empty booth and each ordered a cup of coffee and two poppy-seed muffins. The waitress was kind, but seemed to wordlessly understand their need for privacy, for after delivering their coffee and pastries, she went a few booths over to chat with the patrons there. Lyla nervously poured cream into her coffee while adding a few raw sugars. She gave it a quick stir and took a sip, scalding her tongue. She swallowed quickly and winced, blowing on the coffee before she took another sip. Louis took his coffee black, looking at ease enough to take calm, even sips. He set his coffee down and looked at her imploringly.

"So, Lyla," He began, his voice surprisingly steady. "August came from that one night together?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. She smiled awkwardly and took another sip of her coffee.

"Yes." She said simply. "I found out when I was about 6 weeks along."

"Did the sickness clue you in?" He asked, a smile slightly turning the corners of his mouth. He wanted the explanations to be as painless as possible for Lyla, though his longing to have been there for her, to have been joyous with her at the discovery of the baby, to hold her throughout the pregnancy and cater to her every need… it was overwhelming and made that smile harder to hold. She ran her hand through her thick mane of curly hair.

"Actually, no; I didn't even notice that I was… late. And the uh, the morning sickness wasn't that bad. It came and went pretty quickly, so I honestly thought I had a bad stomach flu."

"What made you realize—"

"I just knew. " She interrupted. She blushed a bit at his confused look. "One day, I was practicing the cello and I… I just knew. I placed my hand here," She rested her hand on her stomach. "And it came to me. It was like a light switched on. After losing you… it was like I would always have a part of you with me. And I knew then that I would always love my child and take care of him."

"I waited for you at the arch for, well, for I don't know how long." Louis said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I was there every day for months… well, until I quit my band."

"I was there nearly every day as well, just hoping I would see you. I guess we just have horrible timing." She said sadly. "I can't tell you how many days I spent on the bench, pregnant and alone." Lyla blinked back tears. Louis reached forward to take her hand.

"If I could have found you sooner, you know that I would have. Even after I found out that you were on your honeymoon, I still—" Lyla practically spit out her coffee then, stopped only by her hand.

"Honeymoon? What honeymoon?!" She was coughing a bit, but quickly got it under control (due mostly to the disgruntled looks from the band in the corner). Louis gave her a wry smile, his blue eyes twinkling.

"I found you online and from there… well, I looked you up in Chicago." He ran his free hand through his hair, looking a bit sheepish. "I'd written you a song, and I waited outside your apartment for a good 5 hours before your landlady said that you were off on your honeymoon."

"Oh no, no, that's my friend Lizzie – she just got married, and she came back early for me, actually. Well, because I told her that I found out that August was alive…"

"Alive?" Louis asked, and then shook his head. "Not yet, there's more to the story, I know." He pulled his hand from hers and lightly bit his thumb. "So I take it that you're _not_ in fact married or otherwise engaged?" He asked, teasingly. Lyla laughed.

"My heart has always belonged elsewhere." She gave him a meaningful look. His heart beat was thunderous and painful, but he gave her his brightest smile. Lyla's heart clenched at that lovely smile, and it took quite a bit of her self-control to keep her from kissing him within an inch of his life.

"As has mine." He replied, his deep, soul-searching eyes finding hers. "So, we both waited for each other at the arch nearly every day, never seeing each other. You find out that you're pregnant and…?" He trailed off, waiting. She took a deep breath – the story was getting to the painful part.

"My father has always been very invested in my music, almost to a _bullying_ degree. He used to be my teacher." She said slowly, trying to word this part of the story correctly. "He was angry enough the night we met since I didn't come home, and when he found out that I was pregnant, he convinced me that you wouldn't help, that you wouldn't be there for me." Louis' eyes darkened in anger, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Did he now?" He asked, nostrils slightly flaring. Lyla nodded, looking embarrassed.

"He kept asking about your occupation, and when I told him that you were in a band… well, he went through the roof. He pushed for an abortion for the first month and a half after we found out, but I refused. For the next 6 months, he said that the baby would ruin my career, just as I had ruined my mother's -- she w-was a violinist. He told me that I had to put the baby up for adoption. For me, putting August up for adoption was never an option; though I had never met him, I loved my son dearly." She paused for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee and looking a bit paler. "It was about 2 weeks before the due date when things got… they got bad, Louis." Lyla's voice had grown shaky, and she was visibly trembling. Louis reached for her hand again, warming it with his. This seemed to give her the strength to go on.

"We – We were out to dinner one night. The evening started well enough; he didn't bring the baby up, he didn't bother me about my career… it was a delicious dinner and everyone in the restaurant complimented me on how beautiful I looked. People I had never met before fussed over my belly, asked me about my baby, and they all said that I was 'positively glowing'." She pinched the bridge of her nose, wearing a grim smile. "After all of the attention, my father got worked up again. He started yelling about my career, telling me that my son would ruin my life. He brought you up again, reminding me that you weren't there, yelling about how you weren't ever going to be there. I stormed out of the restaurant, not looking where I was going and…" Her voice caught as she relived that moment of terror and intense pain. "I got hit by a car." She nearly whispered. Louis' grip tightened on her hand. Her beautiful green eyes were filled with tears of agony, and he felt familiar pinpricks in his own eyes. "I don't remember much of that night. I remember the pain and a lot of shouting. I had almost passed out when they said that August would die if they didn't do something right away." She sniffled and wiped away a tear. "When I woke up, I was hurting and feeling sick. I felt bruised and beaten, but mostly, I felt empty. I put my hand to my stomach and wanted to die when I realized that I was no longer pregnant. A thousand thoughts flew through my head, but I couldn't – I couldn't let myself believe that he was dead. My father was there when I woke up, and he spoke the words that forever changed my life…" Tears slipped down her face at the memory, the pain of that wound never really healed. "H-he said that they l-lost him." She stuttered through her quiet sobs.

"Oh Lyla," Louis said, gripping her hand. He moved out of his seat and sidled into the plush seat beside her, pulling her into his arms. She buried her face into his neck, the smell of his brown leather jacket smooth and calming. He wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair and gently kissing the top of her head. "I can't imagine how painful that must have been for you. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help." After a few minutes, Lyla lifted her head from his neck and wiped the tears from her face.

"After that, I quit playing the cello... I gave up on music completely. But I needed money, since I stopped talking to my Dad. I became a music teacher for elementary school students and tortured myself for years, watching these children grow up and knowing that my own son would have been about their age. My father had a heart attack a few months ago and the hospital staff told me that he requested to see me. I hadn't seen him in years…" She shook her head, her voice growing stronger. "He told me that August wasn't dead, that he had forged my signature on the adoption papers while I was sleeping. I left for New York after that, and I searched for him for about 6 months. Tonight was the first night I got to see him… and to have found you, I…" She paused. "It's entirely surreal, Louis. I'm terrified that I'm going to wake up at any moment and find that none of this ever happened." Lyla closed her eyes and Louis gently kissed her on the forehead. He pulled her to him again, his mouth at her ear.

"Oh, I'm real, girlie." She shivered as his voice caressed her ear. "You'll have a hell of a time getting rid of me now, whether you like it or not." She laughed for a moment in his arms.

"Definitely 'like it.'" He laughed and kissed her forehead again.

"We have a lot more to discuss, love, but I think we need to be somewhere a bit more private. I have a feeling that the band over there would like to wring our necks." Lyla peeked over at the group in the corner and found them shooting glares at their booth. She stifled a giggle and agreed.

"Do you have a place to stay?" She asked. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking.

"I have a hotel room, but I'm sharing it with Marshall." His nose wrinkled in disgust at the name. "He's such a bloody pain."

"Well, you could – you could stay with me, if you wanted." She said shyly. "I mean, we do have more to talk about and I'd love to spend some more time with you."

"I'd love that." Louis replied, pulling her into another hug. "Let's go." After paying and bagging their forgotten muffins, the two left the coffee shop and headed for Lyla's apartment.

"What have you been up to over the years?" She asked.

"Pining over you." He replied, not missing a beat. "I quit singing and playing because I couldn't get over you. I thought -- I thought that it was pointless, that you couldn't hear me anyways. So I went to business school for a few years and became a talent agent, scoping out and signing on up and coming bands."

"Really? How has that worked out for you?"

"Fairly well; I rarely spend any money." He admitted, looking sheepish. "I got a crappy little apartment in San Mateo, just outside of San Francisco. I ate and lived cheaply because I was always working and rarely ever home. So I have a lot of money saved up, which I suppose has worked out."

"Were you here on business?"

"No," Louis grabbed her hand, his thumb rubbing small circles on her hand. "I came here on a hunch. Even though you were supposed to be on your honeymoon, I just felt like I had to come back to New York. I waited at the arches again, though it was a bit silly." He shook his head at the memory. "I wrote a song for you in the hopes that you would hear it."

"Will you play it for me?"

"Soon. Once I get my guitar back, yeah." Her eyes brightened.

"What have you been doing here, besides following hunches and writing music?"

"I convinced the rest of the band to fly out to play a gig here, and I'm pretty sure they're all thinking of getting the band back together."

"And you? Will you be joining the band again?"

"Depends," He said slowly. "I will have to find work as an agent wherever it is that we live, so it can't interfere with that. But even more importantly… it can't interfere with my family and the time I spend with you two." He said the last part hopefully, his ocean-blue eyes staring at her intently. Lyla nodded and gave his hand a tight squeeze. She looked up, realizing that they were at the arches again.

"This will always feel like home to me." She said softly. He looked around and smiled.

"I met August over there." Louis smiled and pointed at the familiar spot. "He's only been playing guitar for 6 months, and he's already brilliant. We have a genius for a son, love." Lyla nodded, warmth bubbling up through her. "I heard him playing and I felt the need to talk to him, to play music with him. He was such a sad looking little boy and I – I felt so connected. I couldn't explain it… he's honest and completely straight-forward with you, which is strange for a boy his age. That's usually reserved for children just learning how to speak. I could hardly leave him… If I had known then, maybe he could have been happier just a bit sooner." He frowned, the guilt rising in his stomach.

"You couldn't have known." Lyla reminded him. "There was no reason for you to think that he was your son when you didn't even know that you had one."

"But my intuition… I should have trusted my gut." Lyla shivered, and Louis realized that she was still in that thin, white dress. He kept his eyes from drifting downwards and focused on taking off his jacket. He slipped it on her shoulders and pulled her close. "Sorry lass, I forget sometimes that women don't stay warm the way that men do." She laughed and thanked him. "Let's get inside your place and settle in. We still have to answer some of Mr. Jeffries' questions, after all." Lyla nodded and they walked to her lovely apartment building together. Louis was surprised that her apartment felt so much like a home – it was certainly more stylish than his own place. She had a comfortable leather couch, a decent-sized TV, a spacious living room and kitchen, art hanging on the walls, a bookshelf filled with music books, a cello case in the corner…

"Would you like me to make you some tea?" She asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"What have you got?"

"The only thing decaffeinated I have is chamomile; will that be alright? I'm feeling a bit shaky after the caffeine in the coffee; I never have caffeinated drinks so late at night."

"Chamomile will be fine, love." She smiled at his term of endearment and put the kettle on the stove.

"Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?" She asked, feeling awkward in her dress. He shook his head. "I'll be right back," She assured him, and she rushed into her bedroom. Lyla selected a comfortable t-shirt and pajama bottoms, but couldn't quite get her dress undone. It would be embarrassing to ask Louis for help, but it would be more embarrassing if she spent 20 minutes trying to reach for that back snap and zipper –

"Louis, can you help me, please?" She called. His footsteps grew louder as he approached the door, and he knocked before entering. "Please, come in." He opened the door and waited, his face masked in darkness. It made her a little more nervous -- she felt exposed to his gaze, and as a thrill ran down her spine, she couldn't quite decide if that was a bad thing. "I – I can't get this snap or the zipper – my arms aren't long enough and I'm really uncomfortable—" Wordlessly, he stepped around her and she stopped talking. He ran his hand down her back, and she reveled in the feel of his hand against her bare skin. He took his time with the snap and pulled the zipper down slowly. He placed a hand on the newly exposed skin, his touch light on the small of her back, and softly nuzzled her neck.

"Anything else?" He asked, his voice soft and husky in her ear. She squeaked as she said "no," and he gave her a slight smirk as he left the room. "I'll be out here waiting for you." Lyla, slightly flustered, quickly stepped out of her dress and pulled on her pajamas. She put the leather jacket back on, enjoying the warmth it provided her. With her dress hung up nicely, she quickly stepped back into the living room area, seeing Louis already seated on her couch. She plopped down next to him and let out another squeak when he gathered her into his arms. "I love the look of my jacket on you," He said as he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "You're so lovely." She blushed and changed the subject, secretly pleased that he still thought that she was beautiful.

"Where do you suppose we should live?"

"San Francisco is far too expensive, love."

"As is Chicago."

"What about a more suburban area in New York? We have Juilliard to think about, after all."

"I suppose we could ask August where he might like to live tomorrow."

"That's probably a good idea; I would want him to live wherever most inspires his music." They then talked of August's Rhapsody in C Major, exclaiming how brilliant their incredible son was. The conversation lulled for a moment before Lyla changed the subject again.

"Do you think I should continue performing?" Lyla asked. "I could maybe teach music at public schools, or give private lessons… and maybe perform with any local orchestras?"

"Never quit on your music, Lyla. You should play until your fingers give out." Louis loved the feel of Lyla against him; her lilac-vanilla scent was tantalizing, and her skin was soft to his touch. He lazily ran his fingers over her arms, randomly pressing kisses to the top of her head or her temples. "Maybe we should skip the tea for tonight, love; I'm beat."

"I was about to suggest that." She climbed out of his lap and walked gracefully to the stove. He loved her look of concentration as she turned off the stove and emptied the contents of her tea kettle into the sink.

"Do you have any extra blankets or pillows?" Louis asked. Lyla looked at him, puzzled.

"I suppose, why?"

"I was just going to make my bed, I suppose." He gestured to the couch. Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink when she realized that he would not be sleeping with her like she'd hoped unless she offered.

"Well I don't have_ that_ many blankets… And I mean, you don't_ have_ to sleep on the couch. We could always share my bed, if you wanted. It's queen-sized." She finished quietly, feeling embarrassed.

"I imagine you get cold in that big bed, all by yourself?" Louis asked, gesturing towards her room. Her voice was stuck in her throat, so she merely nodded. He reached out his hand to her and she walked to him, taking it in her stride. She led him to the the front door, which she locked, and after turning out all of the lights, led him back to her bedroom. She climbed into bed while he stripped to his dark blue boxer-briefs and t-shirt, looking mildly embarrassed. "You don't mind, do you?" He asked, his cheeks a bit red. She shook her head, and he turned out the lights before settling into bed next to her. He pulled her up against him, her back to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her like he had so many years ago.

Lyla hadn't felt so safe and at home in over 12 years. It was as though she had never left those perfect arms, and she snuggled into his body, loving the feeling of his breath on her exposed skin.

Louis could hardly believe his luck; after searching for 12 years, she was finally here and she still fit perfectly against him. Lyla was finally in his arms, and he fell asleep, content.

They drifted off into an easy sleep and dreamed of the wonderful days to come.

**A/N: About 1500 words longer than usual and out in 6 days -- I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you to all of my reviewers, as your words of encouragement urged me to type a bit faster and work that much harder to churn out a good chapter. Just know that I worked several sleepless nights on this chapter, trying to make it flow better, to keep the characters IN character, to make sense... I did some research, re-worded things constantly, and I tried to make a really good chapter, especially since it was such an important conversation that needed to take place. It's also a bit tough without a beta, so if anyone knows a good beta I could check out who loves "August Rush," please let me know!**

**Any feedback you guys have would be great -- don't be shy to click the purple button and drop me a line! I'll start replying to reviews from Chapter 3 and on; I was just so focused on getting the idea out there.**

**Also, I was thinking of doing a "Waitress"/"August Rush" crossover, using the storyline (to an extent) of "Waitress" but incorporating Louis from "August Rush" into it. I feel like Jenna (Keri Russel's character in "Waitress") needs some real romance at the end, someone besides a married doctor to try to sweep her off of her feet. Plus, it's a great movie, even without a romantic ending. Keri Russel really shines in "Waitress" and it makes you want pie really, really badly. What are your opinions on the crossover?**

**Thank you again for your encouragement, and I'll have another chapter out as soon as I can!**

**-Ammi**


	4. We're Real

**Disclaimer: August Rush does not belong to me (unfortunately), but to Warner Brothers and its affiliates. Believe me, if it did belong to me, I would not be writing fanfic about it -- I'd be travelling the world and hiring that Jillian lady from "The Biggest Loser" to be my personal trainer (she's so mean, but she gets the job done!).**

**Suggested songs: "Catch My Disease" by Ben Lee (for the 1st part)****, and "Suffocation Keep" by The Slip (for the 2nd part)**

The first thing Lyla noticed as she woke up was that she was incredibly warm. Rarely did Lyla wake up warm, even in the summer. Rather than trap and amplify her body heat, every comforter she'd ever owned seemed to sap the warmth from her bones and leave her cold and aching in the morning. But this… this was different.

And it was all emanating from the solid chest at her back and the strong arms holding her body closely.

For a moment, Lyla panicked – who could she be so intimately tangled with?

And when the memory of the previous evening flashed through her mind, she relaxed into the arms of her beloved, holding back tears of disbelief and joy. Her little boy – August – was alive and at the moment, only 10 blocks from her apartment. She had found him the night before, along with –

She rolled over awkwardly, trapped by the iron bands of muscle in Louis' arms. He relaxed his grip on her slightly, and she pulled back enough to see his innocent, sleeping face. He had one of the most handsome faces she had ever seen; he had a strong, defined jaw line that said that he was stubborn, but full lips that seemed vulnerable in his sleep. The years apart had done nothing wrong to his perfect face or his idealistic, loving nature. Long black lashes closed over the most intense pair of blue eyes Lyla had ever seen, and his soft brown hair stuck up goofily in a few places. She reached a hand up to stroke that soft cheek, smiling at the slight stubble around the edges of his jaw. Leaning forward, she placed a light kiss on his brow, and then hesitantly wrapped her own arms around him. She snuggled into his warmth, burying her face into his chest and breathing in his unique scent – leather, the ocean, a pleasant cologne she had never smelled before, and something that was inarguably just _Louis_. Everything about him seemed to send her in an emotional frenzy; all at once, she was comforted, terrified, excited, soothed, and…

She shivered against him, not at all cold.

_Aroused_.

She had been sexually frigid for years, an ice queen of epic proportions – justifiably so, as the only man she'd ever been with had been ripped from her the next day, and the product of that perfect night had been thought dead for the last 11 years. Lyla was relatively a stranger when it came to anything sexual, so the feelings were embarrassing and entirely new. The only thing that ever left her feeling the way she did at the moment (and it was nothing in comparison to how she felt at that moment) was the memory of their night together so many years ago.

Lyla's heart was pounding in her chest, years worth of repressed sexual urges finally surfacing. She licked her lips and closed her eyes, trying desperately to fall back asleep and ignore her body's needs. She could hear his voice against her ear, breath tickling the shell, as he asked if she needed anything else. She shivered again, making an odd, high-pitched noise as she entangled her legs with his and hiding her face completely in his chest. Lyla could feel the smooth, steady beat of Louis' heart against her face and hear the deep, even breaths he was taking in his sleep. Suddenly, he seemed to stir and both changed, becoming mildly sporadic for a moment and quickening. She looked up slightly at the sound of his chuckle, peeking between the curls of her wild, blond hair.

"Hiding, are we?" He asked, his accent especially rich and his voice rough from sleep. Another delicious shiver wracked her frame, and he seemed to smile sleepily at her. "Now, now – that jus' won't do, my love." With two fingers, he lifted her face from his chest and gently kissed her forehead. His lips were soft against her skin, and the aching want and need seemed to rise even more so from her.

_Be reasonable!_ She scolded herself. _We've only just become reacquainted, and now you have your son to think about! _If her libido could speak, it probably would have settled with a light snort, and then continued wreaking havoc with her emotions.

_As if he'd mind!_ It seemed to say. _He'd be willing to go to the moon and back for you – a roll in the hay, figuratively speaking, would probably ease some of the awkward tension you two have going on._

Louis seemed unaware of her internal struggle and had settled with running his fingers through her curly hair and placing kisses along the tips of each of her fingers. "You're so lovely in the morning light," Louis whispered softly, placing another kiss on her fingertip. "You bewitch me with your beauty." Lyla's cheeks grew pink, and she tried to turn away in her embarrassment. He chuckled and pulled her to him. "No escaping now, lass. You're mine." Another excited shiver ran through her, and finally Louis took notice. "Are you cold, love? How much tighter must I squeeze you? What can I do to warm you up?"

_I can think of something,_ her body responded. Lyla flushed an even brighter red. "No, no I'm fine." _Prude._ Louis lifted her face to his and smiled, his eyes full of love and devotion. Lyla's breath caught at the sight, and slowly she responded with a beatific smile of her own. Looking into those eyes was disarming at times, and she quickly found herself lost in them. His eyes informed her of the depth of his adoration for her, that love at first sight _was_ possible, that –

Lyla forcibly tore her gaze from his, willing herself not to get caught up in the silly romance again – not when she needed to focus on her son. Louis was definitely in the picture, she reminded herself with glee, and there would be time to focus on the romance _after_ they'd spent some time getting to know their son.

"What's—" Lyla's voice came out as a mere croak, and she cleared it quickly before trying again. "What's on the agenda for today?" Louis smiled.

"We're going to visit our son, of course." He said, smiling. She smiled at the thought, picturing his happy face. "After they kick us out," Lyla chuckled. "We can spend some time looking around New York – look for a new home, get to know each other a bit more?" Lyla blushed, knowing that her love for this man was ridiculous by all normal accounts. She barely knew anything about him, and yet she _knew_ that he was made for her, just as she was made for him. Maybe some time together would be nice… especially if a judge was going to grant them any sort of custody.

Is _true_ intimacy simply knowing everything about the other person, and in turn, them knowing everything about you? Lyla was sure that that wasn't necessarily so. The way he looked into her eyes… it was like he could see her very soul. It was hard not to feel connected to someone who understands the way she thinks, works, ticks... Even so, there were things about him that she wanted to know, and not just because she felt obligated to know his favorite food or his favorite memory growing up. She wanted to know because she wanted to understand him completely; she wanted to anticipate his needs and know exactly what a certain gesture or facial expression meant.

Lyla wanted to know Louis completely.

With that thought, Lyla pried herself free from Louis, placed a daring (but gentle) kiss on his cheek, and got out of bed. She offered to make a pot of coffee for the two of them, which he graciously accepted, and the two proceeded to make their way out of her bedroom. As she was pouring the ground beans into the filter, she felt his hands grip her waist. He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his strong arms around her, kissing the top of her head. She relaxed into his arms, turning her head and nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

"When do you suppose we should visit August?" She asked softly.

"As soon as we're both showered and dressed." He replied, his voice loud and rumbling against her ear.

"Where… where will you, uh, stay?" Lyla cleared her throat, suddenly feeling choked up and extremely shy.

"I can stay here, if you want." He ducked his head down to speak in her ear, and she shuddered. "Still cold?" He asked, the humor apparent in his voice. This… this teasing, this… whatever it was that he was doing, it was making her resolve a bit harder to hold. Remembering August, she was able to reign herself in – she'd gone 12 years without sex, hadn't she? 12 years without this unbearably attractive man, hadn't she? She could go a while longer. – She could!

"I'm fine." She said, her voice a bit shaky, but definitely stronger than before. "And I would…" Lyla took a deep breath. "I would like you to stay, if you want to." She could feel his grin against her hair, and felt herself smile in response.

"How about you shower up, love? I'll see what I can make you for breakfast, and then we'll head over to see August."

"What about you?" She asked. "Don't you want to shower?" She turned in time to see his face fall a bit.

"Yeah, I would… but I'd rather not see Marshall this early. I wouldn't want to put you in his infuriating presence, either."

"Is he really so bad?" She asked, feeling sympathetic. His frown deepened, and he stared at something across the room rather than look her in the eye.

"Sometimes." His voice was quiet. "Sometimes he's like a real big brother. Sometimes he gives me real advice and keeps his gob shut. But most of the time… he's blunt to a rather obnoxious point. He's pessimistic, but is bloody happy when he rains on your parade. He loves picking fights and he loved bullying me as a child. At times, I can't help but hate him a bit, but at the end of the day… he's just my idiot brother, and I have to let it go." Louis then lowered his gaze to meet hers, and continued. "He'd be awful to you if we were to go over there now, and I have better uses for these hands than to fight him." Lyla smiled tentatively and wrapped her arms around him.

"You can shower after me and then put your grubby clothes back on." She suggested. "That is, if you don't mind smelling a bit girly for today." He chuckled. "After we visit August, we can pick up your things and bring them back here… you can shower again with your own things, if you want."

"It's a good idea, love. But I'm still making you breakfast – care for an omelet?"

--

When August opened his eyes, he immediately began to cry. He awoke to the sight of a mattress and wooden slats, and that was when he knew that he was back at the orphanage. He was trapped – he'd be picked on by the bullies, alone in a world without music. A world where he could not create it, could not write it down; a world where Juilliard did not exist, a world where guitars, pianos, cellos, trumpets, drums, and all other magical things did not exist.

And worst of all?

A world without his parents.

"_They're probably dead!"_

Wizard was probably right… and a dream as perfect as the one he'd had could never be a reality. A larger wave of despair washed over him, and he began to cry harder. August wasn't one for tears, as sensitive and sweet as he was. He was far too optimistic, and he preferred to block out all negative thoughts and emotions. Even when he felt utterly alone in a cold and friendless world, he had found solace and release in the music… the music that his parents had unknowingly given to him.

But those parents had never cared; why else had they never tried to find him? He had waited for 12 years, 4 months, and 5 days…

"August?" A kind voice interrupted his despair, but he quickly shut it out.

"Please go away." He whispered, still sobbing. A hand hesitantly touched his hair, and he grabbed onto it, clutching it to his chest for dear life. "I hate waking up to a nightmare!" He cried, feeling years of repressed tears, self-doubt, and utter loneliness finally surfacing. Another hand was gently rubbing his back, trying to calm him down.

"August?" August tried to shut that voice out; his wonderful dream was coming back to haunt him. "Please, excuse me, that's my son – August? What's wrong, sweetie?" The hand he'd been holding left, as did the hand at his back. Just as he was about to burst into a fresh wave of tears, someone sat on the bed next to him and pulled him into their arms. A gentle, lovely perfume filled his nose, and he looked up with bleary eyes. Golden curls filled his vision, and though pessimism had been fueling his disbelief all morning, he couldn't help but throw his arms around who he hoped was his mother. He continued to cry, trying to work through his grief and his fear, and the arms around him never let go. A hand was running its fingers through his hair, and he felt himself slowly calming down. August felt the bed sink a bit more as another person sat down behind him, and the scent of leather and something… grown-up, something manly, assailed his senses. He felt the woman holding him scooting into those waiting arms, and the three of them held each other. Several minutes passed before August had finally stopped crying, and instead was sniffling and rubbing his eyes. The arms around him relaxed, and he looked up into the beautiful green eyes he'd been dreaming of.

His mother.

Tears filled his eyes again as she smiled warmly at him, and he turned to see the handsome face of his father looking at him questioningly.

"I…" He hiccupped, and wiped at his nose with his arm. "I thought that it was all a dream."

"What did you think was a dream?" His father asked softly. August hiccupped again and rubbed at his eyes.

"Everything – Juilliard, playing the music, Wizard, the concert…" He paused, feeling the sadness fill his belly. "You and Mom…" He said the last part so softly that both Louis and Lyla had to strain to hear him.

"We're real, August." Lyla said, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "We're real and we're here, ready to make this family work." He flashed her a small, tight-lipped smile.

"We're not going anywhere, son." Louis said, and Lyla heard something in his voice that she'd never heard before; it was more than love, it was… something fatherly. It was tender, parental, and so reassuring that she couldn't help but be reminded of her mother – before she had left them, that is. The tone he had taken was what she had been longing to hear from Louis, and her heart swelled with deep affection for him. "Yer Mum and I promised that we'd be back, or did'ja forget?" He smiled lovingly at August, and August couldn't help but answer with a bright smile of his own.

"Maybe a little." August admitted, his smile dimming slightly. "Last night was just too good to be true." His mother squeezed him in her arms, and he felt her kiss his cheek. His face reddened a bit before his smile brightened again. He let out a nervous giggle and turned himself so that he could hug her in return. Louis laughed lightly and ruffled the boy's hair. August loosened his grip on his mother and leaned over to hug his father, who wrapped his strong arms around him.

"I'm so lucky to have found you." His father's rich voice was comforting, and August couldn't help but relax into him completely. "What a little miracle you are." Louis reached out to pull Lyla into the hug, maneuvering them both into his lap. "I have a family." Louis said softly, pressing a kiss to both Lyla and August's foreheads.

"Why didn't you guys find me before?" August asked softly. Lyla sighed, looking pained.

"There was… a mix-up at the hospital." She said softly.

"A mix-up?" August repeated, confusion drawing his eyebrows together. She nodded. "What kind of mix-up?"

"I got into an accident the night that you were born, and there was a mistake at the hospital. They told me that you had died, but you didn't. The hospital put you in the orphanage after that…"

"You thought… you thought that I was dead?" August asked, the pain in her face causing his chest to tighten. His mother nodded.

"I was informed of the mistake a few months ago… and I've been looking for you ever since."

"Dad? What about you?" Louis looked away for a moment, his gaze haunted to August's eyes.

"I… I didn't know that you were ever alive, August. Yer Ma never got to tell me that she was pregnant with you."

"Why?" Louis pressed his lips together, looking thoughtful.

"We got separated by accident and I couldn't find her again. I searched for her everywhere… I waited and waited… and I found out last night that she'd been waiting for me, too. I found out about you last night."

"And you're not going to leave? You aren't going to get separated again?"

"Not for all of the gold and jewels in the world, son. There's nothing that could keep me away from you two, now." With those words, the fear and anxiety that had been festering in August's heart seemed to melt away. "Now… onto other matters…" August perked up, listening. "Yer Ma and I have been discussing where we might live once we get things settled in court…"

"Could we… could we stay in New York? At least for a little while?" August begged, looking at his parents with wide eyes. "The city is big and scary, but it's full of music and inspiration… And there's Juilliard – I still want to go to Juilliard, if I can." They both smiled at him.

"We thought that you might say that." His mother said, a playful tone in her voice. "We just wanted to make sure that you wanted to live here before we bought a place for us all to live." Abruptly, Louis released them from his loving arms and moved off of the bed. He stood up, and helped both Lyla and August do the same.

"Let's go for a walk around this place – you haven't eaten breakfast yet, have you?" August shook his head. "A growing boy needs food." He declared, and Lyla began to giggle. She and August exchanged amused smiles, and both Louis and Lyla grabbed one of August's hands. Together, they walked to the mess hall, discussing their favorite food (some of Louis' choices had Lyla and August gagging), whereas Louis and Lyla were shocked that August didn't care much for candy and most other sweets. Lyla's choices were all fairly normal, though a few of her choices were questionable (things like "soffrito rice" and "Grey Meal"). In the end, they all had a good laugh, and August was just pleased to get to know his parents a little better.

August's breakfast wasn't quite up to the caliber of Louis' omelet (according to Louis), and he promised that August would be eating _much_ better than "barely decent" food when he was allowed to come home with them. Their visiting hours were far shorter than they would have liked, and August started to cry when they had to leave.

"We'll be back to see you again tomorrow, August." His mother promised.

"We have so much more to learn about you… would you like it if I brought my guitar?" Louis asked. August nodded vigorously, tears being replaced with a smile. Louis wiped a few of August's tears away with his thumb and pulled him into a tight hug. As he pulled away, he pressed a kiss to August's forehead and passed him to his mother. She too hugged him tightly, but she kissed his cheek and nuzzled his nose with hers before stepping away.

"I love you!" August called to them as they started to walk away. They turned, smiling brightly together.

"We love you too!" His mother yelled joyfully.

"See you tomorrow!" His father called.

Though the loneliness returned after they had faded from sight, it wasn't nearly as deep or profound as before. August had a family – he had a mother and a father who loved him and longed to know him in the same way that he longed to know them. He went to bed early that night, though it took quite some time for him to get some sleep. The thrill of the day still lingered, and he could hardly wait for what the next day would bring.

**A/N: Hello everyone! I am SO sorry for the wait -- ffdotnet has been having issues when it comes to uploading my stories. I tried uploading on 4 different computers and nada, so I'm sorry! Also, thank you all so much for the reviews! They really cheer me up, and I've been having some bad days lately; lost my job, lost the man I love... it's a wonder that I can still write fluff, lol. Still on the lookout for a beta, so I apologize if this chapter has mistakes. I'll be combing over it again in a few days when my head is clear of this story (I find it easier to fix things when it isn't so fresh in my memory). Please review and I hope to have another chapter out soon!**

**Always,**

**-Ammi**


	5. Accusations

**Disclaimer: August Rush belongs to Warner Brothers and its affiliates.**

**Suggested songs: "Notice," by Gomez, "We Walk" by The Ting Tings, and "Young Folks," by Peter Bjorn and John -- there are links for the songs on my profile so that you can listen and read along!**

Louis and Lyla walked hand in hand, Louis swinging their arms a bit. Though it was mid-April, it was uncharacteristically chilly that day. Louis suggested grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, and Lyla jumped at the idea with enthusiasm.

"Do you suppose we could go to Serendipity?" She asked, looking hopeful. "I'm not sure where it is, but I've wanted to go ever since I was a kid… and Daddy told me that sweets would rot my teeth, but…" She looked frustrated for a moment, and turned her gaze away in anger at the memory of her father. She was firm believer in the phrase "better late than never," but eleven years late? Glad though she was to have August, she missed so many things in his life; his first laugh, first tooth, first word, first steps, first sentence… she didn't get to see him "turn into a real person," as Lizzie called the stage when they start remembering things and having real thought processes. She missed his first crush, the first time he touched an instrument… it was heartbreaking. And while she was glad to have him now (though she couldn't see him as much as she liked), the bitterness and anger towards her father had not faded in the months of discovering the shocking news. Lyla wasn't sure that she could ever forgive him for his life-changing lie, and she knew that Louis never would. In fact, she was sure that Louis would give up all common sense and let the angry Irishman within beat the hell out of her father. Her stomach clenched with guilt when she realized that she probably wouldn't raise a finger to stop him. What kind of daughter was she?

And yet… the same could be asked of him; what kind of father was he? Definitely not one that Lyla had ever really loved (as he had been distant and always kept her at arms length), and now he was one that she could never trust or respect.

Deep down, Lyla knew that he was only trying to protect her. Lyla also knew that she _was _the reason her mother stopped playing music, and her father was trying to help her with her gift.

…Especially since he couldn't continue playing the cello himself. After a horribly botched surgery to fix his advanced and very painful carpal tunnel syndrome, he officially had to put his bow down, something that Lyla knew had killed part of his soul. Her father, a world-class cellist, had been reduced to a has-been without anything to fall back on. After gaining a hefty settlement from the lawsuit against the hospital that had destroyed his left hand, Thomas Novacek focused all of his time on raising his daughter to be the greatest cellist the world would ever know. His obsession with her talent and training drove her mother to stop playing the violin, as she tried to free up more time to protect her daughter's childhood. But Thomas refused to relent in his harsh training. She grew to despise the sound of music, and eventually left them. Lyla, who was only 10 years old, fell into a deep depression. In Thomas' own warped logic, he placed the blame of his wife leaving on Lyla's shoulders.

Her father hadn't known that his plan with August would backfire; he had assumed that she'd get over it and return to music as a form of solace. He knew how connected she was with August, but Lyla was sure that he didn't understand the _depth_ of her love for him. It was something that men, especially ones such as her cold and sometimes unfeeling father, couldn't understand very easily. He just thought that she was a silly 20 year-old girl, a sheltered child trying to play house. And though she was young and sheltered at the time, her baby boy was the only thing she really cared about. She connected her love for him with her love for music, spending her days with her cello resting at her protruding belly and playing her favorite pieces. Her love and passion for her child made her playing that much better, even with her stomach getting in the way. She would spend hours a day with headphones to her stomach, playing the calming works of Debussy, the dramatic and beautiful pieces of Rachmaninov, and the playful pieces of Mozart. She would play calming music all around the house because she'd read somewhere that it would help the baby go to sleep after he was born. She'd read her baby books, prepared for him in every way possible…

Lyla hadn't ever really dreamed of being a mother, as her father had informed her early on that she was to be a famous concert musician. It wasn't until after she lost August that she truly resented her father for everything he'd done – though music was her one true love, she had never experienced or tried anything else. Considered to be a prodigy, she entered into Juilliard fairly young and graduated before her 20th birthday. It was scary to be in a school with no one her age, and Lyla had always been a very shy person. It was hard to make friends (given the age difference and the arrogance of many of the students there), so she poured herself entirely into her music. That night with Louis had been… it had been like something out of a dream. It wasn't a normal thing, she knew that, but it was the most normal and at peace she had ever felt. She wasn't trying to impress anyone, her father wasn't berating her every mistake… she just got to be a normal girl.

_"I'm just… me."_

Meeting Louis had changed her life, and still would have even if she _hadn't_ become pregnant. If they had simply talked the whole night, rather than letting their hormones take over, it still would have been life-altering. That night, she discovered that there was more to her and her future than just music (as wonderful as it was) – she discovered that she was beautiful, that she was desirable. She knew from his low, guttural moans, his sweet whispers of adoration in her ear, and his hardness pressing against her thigh through the thin cloth of her dress –

Lyla let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She was sure that her face was bright red, and she felt embarrassed for remembering their night of passion. She tilted her head up slightly and looked at him through the curls of her hair. She realized that he was doing the same, his head tilted towards her slightly and his eyes focused on her. He took in her red face with a grin, which only made her blush deepen as she looked away. Yes, that night was something to be remembered.

It was a night of firsts for Lyla – her first night away from her father, her first concert out of Juilliard as a solo cellist, her first party (though she originally hadn't wanted to go), her first beer (though she'd only had half before she discarded it), and her first _time_. Though Louis _had_ made that night something to remember, it had still hurt regardless. She hadn't known how much it would hurt, but the pain had faded with his gentle ministrations, his coaxing voice at her ear, and how he had waited for her to become more comfortable before moving. It really hadn't felt good for quite some time, but when she felt those tendrils of pleasure, she cautiously gave in and moved with him. And when he started using his fingers, Lyla thought she might die before she was overcome with her pleasure. When they finally were lying sated in each others arms, he gently helped her back into her dress and himself into his clothes, and they fell asleep together. She wasn't sure if it was a dream or not, but as she was slowly falling asleep, she could have sworn she had heard him whisper, "I love you…"

Leaving Louis behind that day had been wrong, and she knew it was. She could still hear him calling for her joyfully, jumping so that she'd see him. His enthusiasm and naivety made it hard to remember that he was a year older than her, especially since she was always so careful and shy. He was always moving, always smiling…

She wondered what kind of person her son was – shy like his parents? Maybe the cautious kind of shy, like Lyla, or the childlike shyness that seemed to embody Louis? Lyla was the kind of person to never really become comfortable in a room full of people she didn't know, never one to want the spotlight. Sometimes she wasn't all that comfortable with Lizzie, a friend she had known for the better part of two decades! Louis – at least, the Louis she had first met – seemed like the kind of person who was shy in a crowd, but vibrant one-on-one. His eyes were always so full of life… Lyla shuddered at the thought of how he had looked the last 12 years. If he had been half as miserable as she was, then those beautiful eyes…

Lyla shuddered at the image_._

She could see him at work, all tight-lipped smiles to the general public and his face downcast and worn when alone. But those eyes… they would be lifeless, spiritless, and broken. Her anger for her father was renewed with that thought --

A notion struck Lyla then – she would only have 6 years with August. 6 precious years to capture moments and to spend time with him before he went off to enjoy life and… and these next 6 years were going to be his _teen_ years, the _insanely __**hard**_ years where he wouldn't want anything to _do_ with his parents! As a brand new mother, that thought hurt more than anything. In a few short years, her baby would want absolutely nothing to do with her. He'd be busy with girls and music, and his mother would just be someone he'd see at the dinner table. Louis, at least, could still throw a football or a baseball around with him. They could spend some bonding time together… but as the mother?

Lyla choked back her tears, willing them not to fall, but her attempts were futile. She hoped that Louis would not notice, but he seemed to notice everything about her at all times. He wiped the tear from her cheek and pulled her off of the sidewalk, standing in front of a shop window.

"What's wrong, love?" He asked, genuinely confused. "Hey now, don' cry." He wiped away another tear and pulled her into his arms. "Thinkin' about yer father, then?" Louis asked. She nodded in his arms, feeling herself breaking. "I'm guessin' this is about more than hot chocolate, hmm?" She let out a small laugh, and focused on trying to reign in her emotions.

"It's just…" She sniffled for a moment. "He took away 12 years of time with my son. I missed all of the years where he'll want to cuddle, where I'm his world. August is going to be a teenager soon… and he's not going to want anything to do with me. I have 6 years – just 6! – before he leaves forever, and I'll barely get to know him!" She scrubbed furiously at her face and cursed quietly under her breath. Louis kissed her forehead and tilted her face up. His eyes were filled with pain and understanding.

"I understand, Lyla. 6 years t'aint much, is it?" She shook her head. "It's only …" He seemed to be calculating something in his head. "It's about 2000 days… but we can make those 2000 days somethin' special, Lyla. And he's not like any other boy, you and I both know tha'. He's special, he's kind, and he loves us. He'll want to spend every wakin' moment with us – you'll be wantin' to get rid of him before long." She gave a false-laugh, not wanting to ruin his mood with her fears and unhappiness.

"You're right; I'm being a pessimist." She shook her head. "We'll worry about that time when it comes." Louis took her hand in his, suddenly looking thoughtful and nervous.

"And if it's somethin' you want, maybe someday we could make a few brothers an' sisters for August." Her face reddened at the thought, but she couldn't hold back her smile.

"Y-yes… someday, I think I would like that." She said quietly, looking down at her feet. He lifted her face up to his, and his tender smile eased the worry in her heart.

"If you want t' have more, just say the word." He brushed a curl away from her face and her heart seemed to stutter.

"Let's spend some time with August before we get to work on that." Lyla said slyly, laughing as his eyes widened. He winked at her, and she nudged him with her shoulder. Lyla's excitement and nervousness hit a new high – they were going to sleep together again, there was no doubt about it. They both wanted to have more kids; they both wanted a future. Joy bubbled within her, and she felt completely re-energized.

"Shall we go to Serendipity, then?" Louis asked, his eyes twinkling. She grinned.

"Really?" He nodded. "How far away are we?"

"It's a 15 minute walk from here – and we get to walk past Central Park." He flashed her a charming grin, and she felt herself edge closer to him., trying to somehow absorb his good mood. Her lips quirked upwards, at the thought of Central Park, the place that had brought her (she hesitantly thought this word) _family_ together at last.

"Mm." She agreed, biting a lip. "I have a feeling that it will become my most favorite place in the whole world."

"It brought us together, it gave August back t' us. This is where our family began." Lyla nuzzled his arm, loving the way he said 'our family.' Louis grabbed her hand, pulling her towards Serendipity. "You'll love this place, Lyla. Best frozen hot chocolate I've ever had!" Lyla looked up at him quizzically.

"'Frozen hot chocolate'?" She asked, confused. He pulled her in towards him, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"You'll see, love. You'll see."

---

A couple of hours later, Louis and Lyla were standing in front of Louis' hotel. He had tried to convince her not to come with him, telling her that she could be spared the innuendo and embarrassing remarks, but she insisted on coming with him and having a united front.

"After all," she said, pursing her lips. "I should have a chance to properly thank him for the lovely wake-up call." Louis' eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Lyla tilted her head up at him, looking both irritated and amused.

"The alcohol shower and the Polaroid – you do remember, don't you?" Louis grimaced at the memory, recalling his fury.

"He's always been a right bastard." Lyla laughed and intertwined their fingers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"It'll be fine, Louis. I won't let what he says get to me." Louis shook his head ruefully, knowing full and well that he probably wouldn't leave without at least shoving Marshall once. Their father had died when Louis was 5, leaving him to be raised by his mother and eldest brother, Patrick. Patrick had left dreams of going to a university behind, opting instead to get a job with a steady income. Marshall, 3 years older than Louis, became a bully and a general nuisance, picking on Louis whenever he had the chance. Now that he was grown up, he knew that it was just Marshall's way of acting out his grief. But he and Marshall were both in their 30's – Marshall's cruel teasing and bullying should have ended a long time ago!

Louis knew that he wasn't exactly being fair to him, though; Marshall was a good big brother sometimes. The fact that he had convinced the other band mates to fly out to New York to play with Louis again was something that couldn't be taken lightly. Marshall was one to hold a grudge, and the fact that he didn't ask a lot of questions or pester him about leaving the band eleven years prior really meant a lot to Louis. But he knew that the second he brought Lyla in that door, Marshall wouldn't be able to stop himself from making a few choice, very rude comments. His methods for embarrassment were a bit underhanded, seemingly innocent in the eyes of everyone around him, but to the person he was harassing? It was a solid punch to the gut. Louis didn't want Lyla to know just how broken he had been after they had been separated. He knew that she understood how he was to an extent, but if Marshall told her about the countless wistful songs he'd written about her, how he ran out on the band screaming like a coward… if she knew just how empty he was without her, he didn't know if he could take it. Saying that you were miserable was one thing, but hearing someone else voice how utterly pathetic you are to the girl of your dreams…

He wasn't sure he would be able to bear any pity from her; his pride simply wouldn't allow it.

Louis took a deep breath and pulled Lyla into the hotel. It was a shabby place, but the locks on the doors were decent and Louis was friends with the manager, Roger. The rest of the band had felt safe leaving their things there, even though the instruments altogether were worth almost a month's stay.

"Lou, back so late?" Roger called out, coming from behind the front desk. "The other guys were all worried when you disappeared on them last night." Louis offered Roger a roguish grin and glanced helpfully down at his and Lyla's entwined hands. "Oh, you were uh, otherwise _entertained_?"

"Not quite wha' yer thinkin', Rog. This here's my girl, Lyla." Lyla blushed at being called "his girl," and Roger did a double take, his eyes widening.

"_The_ Lyla?" He asked, sounding stunned. Lyla gave Louis a confused look, but he just smiled.

"The one and only; finally tracked her down."

"Am I right in assuming that there's a good story behind all of this?" Roger asked, shooting Lyla odd looks. She turned her head away shyly, curling herself into Louis' side. Louis nodded, still smiling.

"Unfortunately, it's a story to be told another time. I'm just here to pick up me bags and guitar. I have a family to get back to." Louis said proudly.

"A family? Jesus, you got kids?"

"Jus' the one, for now." Louis winked at Roger and steered Lyla away. They walked down a long, narrow hallway before reaching an elevator. As Louis pushed the button, Lyla leaned closer to him.

"What was all that about?" She whispered.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm afraid you're a bit famous with anyone who knows me."

"Famous? How?"

"Because you're the girl who stole me brother's heart away and never gave it back." A new voice came from behind them. Lyla jumped and turned around, and Louis grimaced.

"Was that really necessary, Marshall?" He asked, sounding irritated.

"Probably as necessary as yer decade of sulking was." Louis rolled his eyes as the elevator doors opened. The three of them stepped inside, and Marshall pressed the 2nd floor button. "What are you two doin' here? Getting a room?" Lyla blushed, stepped even closer to Louis who merely glared.

"Jus' picking up me t'ings."

"Don' know why I'm so surprised you're already leaving – tha' seems t' happen when she shows up. And she seems to show up whenever music seems to be the most important t'ing in yer life."

"Enough." Louis shook his head at Marshall. "That's enough."

The elevator dinged as they reached the 2nd floor, and they all stepped off together. Marshall followed closely behind like a cat stalking its prey, and Louis gripped Lyla's hand a little tighter. As they reached the hotel room, Marshall started up again.

"Tell me, what brings you two lovebirds together? As I remember it, she stepped into a limo and never saw you again." Louis pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door, pushing into a cramped and incredibly messy hotel room. It smelled a little like Louis, but mostly it smelled like beer and sweaty clothes. Lyla stood awkwardly in the doorway while Louis began stuffing his clothes into his suitcase, not bothering to fold them. Marshall stood next to Lyla in the doorway, the look in his eye daring her to answer his question.

"Music," Lyla said quietly. "Music and... August."

"August isn't for another few months, Baby Bro – makin' plans already? You were always more of a fly by the seat of yer pants kind of guy, as I recall."

"'August' is our son," Louis said a little sharply. Marshall's eyes widened in shock.

"Son?" He repeated, sounding dazed. "You have a son?"

"Yes, I do." Louis said, a little impatiently. He made his way into the bathroom, gathering his toiletries and shoving them into a plastic bag.

"And you're absolutely sure that he's the father?" Marshall asked, staring at Lyla accusingly. Lyla flushed a deep, angry red.

"Excuse me?" She asked, her voice quiet but full of anger.

"I asked how you can be sure that _that_ trusting idiot is the father." Marshall said calmly, an angry smirk making its way onto his face. He looked pissed off, but incredibly pleased with himself at the same time. It was a dangerous expression, one that Louis would have recognized and warned her of had he been in the room.

"I don't think I quite understand what you're insinuating." Lyla said, her eyes darkening.

"Oh, but I t'ink you do." Marshall said, licking his lips in anticipation. "You wait over a decade before turning up in my little brother's life to tell him that he's got a son? The way I see it, you ran out of money and went looking for the richest man you dropped your panties for so that you could trick him into giving you money for child support." Lyla glared at him, her hands clenched at her side.

"Excuse me?" She asked again.

"You heard what I said – no sense in repeating it." Her jaw clenched and her lips tightened, holding back a string of foul language.

"How dare you?" Lyla asked, her features changing to that of disgust. "How dare you judge me? You don't even _know _me. You have no idea what's going on – what I've been through!"

"Pregnancy, apparently." The smartass comment almost made Lyla stamp her foot on the ground in irritation. However, her furious expression only egged Marshall on. "Really though, how do you know that this August is me Baby Bro's son?" Rage coursed through her veins, and she couldn't help but yell.

"Because I've never slept with anyone else!"

The room was utterly silent. Marshall looked both flabbergasted and amused, still managing to look like he was mocking her. Louis had reentered the room on that comment and was staring at Lyla, who was always so calm and sweet, suddenly sporting a fiery temper to match his. Embarrassed though he was to admit it to himself, he found it to be quite the turn-on to see her so angry and full of passion. Lyla, however, was slowly becoming mortified – Louis' brother did _not_ need that kind of information about her (lack of) sex life! _Great,_ she thought, _now he has _more _ammo he can use against you!_ She slowly moved away from the door to go sit on one of the two full-sized beds. The springy mattress squeaked as she sat down, and she buried her face in her hands as she did so.

"What the hell is your problem, man?" Louis asked Marshall, anger making its way onto his face. "Why are you harassing her?"

"Don't you think it's a wee bit strange that she waited eleven years to tell you about yer son?"

"No, I don't. And you had no right to say those t'ings t' her."

"I have every right, Baby Bro! I'm yer big brother – I have every right to make sure you're not getting scammed by some pretty gold-digger!"

The loud thwack that followed Marshall's harsh words startled Lyla, and she looked up as he hit the ground. Louis was standing over him, rubbing his fist tenderly, looking more annoyed than angry. Marshall started to laugh, and he held his hand up to Louis who promptly helped him up.

"At least you've still got a good punch in you, Lou. I was startin' to t'ink you'd gone completely soft."

"Well if I have, then even my soft-fist means trouble for yer ugly face." Marshall continued to laugh, and he flashed Lyla a grin at seeing her astonished expression.

"Welcome to the Connelly Clan, Baby Sister." Louis gave his brother a gentle shove before he walked over to Lyla, shaking out his right hand.

"I t'ink that's his way of saying he's sorry, love." Lyla raised her eyebrow at Marshall, looking thoroughly annoyed, before giving him a tired smile and shake of the head. Louis looked back at Marshall. "I'm pretty sure that's her way of saying that she'll forgive you – for now." Marshall winked at her before spitting out the blood in his mouth and wiping off his face. "Look Marshall, I'm not quittin' the band this time. I'm goin' to try to find work out here in New York – I don't know if you lads want t' follow me – I know you have lives in San Francisco. If nothing else, we can write music while we're apart, visit when we want to put somethin' together, and have shows in New York like we did last time."

"But what if someone wants to sign us, Lou? What then?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, Marshall." Marshall hung his head for a second, seeming to contemplate something.

"Look, I'll talk to the guys, see what they t'ink. We could really make it this time, Lou. Just don't go AWOL on us again, alright?"

"I won't, Marshall. Just understand that my family comes first, yeah?" Marshall nodded, still looking a little bewildered by the whole situation.

"I still can't believe tha' you're someone's da'." Louis grinned sheepishly and sat down next to Lyla. She immediately grabbed for his right hand, checking it over for bruises and swelling. "You'll be a good father, Louis. If you're anything like Da' or Pat, he'll grow up happy." Louis and Lyla smiled softly, both thinking of August and his heartwarming grin.

"I sure hope so." Marshall suddenly looked mischievous.

"When do I get to meet him?" Louis looked up at him playfully.

"Never!" He yelled, and Lyla started laughing.

"But every kid should get a chance to meet their evil Uncle – how else will they learn how to play pranks and make their teachers blush?"

"I think August is a bit too shy for that." Lyla interjected, looking thoughtful.

"And honest." Louis added.

"So then he's a miniature Louis?" Lyla nodded when Louis laughed. "Lord have mercy on him when he meets his soul mate, then." Louis threw a pillow at him, which Marshall easily caught.

"Anyways Marshall, we've got to goin' – we both need t' find jobs and prepare for the custody hearing—"

"Custody hearing?" Marshall interrupted, looking confused.

"It's… kind of a long story." Lyla said quietly, looking down at her feet. Louis sighed.

"I'll try to make it short." Louis said, grabbing her hand. He looked up at Marshall. "Lyla's father thought that August would ruin her career. She got into an argument wit' him one night, stormed out of the restaurant they were eating at, and got hit by a car. They did an emergency C-section and saved the baby, but her father forged her signature on the adoption papers while she was sleeping. When she woke up, he lied and told her that August had died. He jus' told her about what he'd done two months ago." Marshall had the decency to look both sad and ashamed.

"Baby Sis, I'm really sorry about the t'ings I said before." He could barely even look Lyla in the eye. "I said some t'ings that were uncalled for – you've been through enough." Lyla looked up at him and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"You didn't know; what were you supposed to think? You had every reason to feel that way about me. We probably should have explained before you made an ass out of yourself." She smiled then which got a bark of a laugh from both Louis and Marshall. Louis and Lyla stood up then and Louis grabbed his suitcase and guitar. "Do you want me to carry that?" She asked, pointing to his guitar. He shook his head, smiling.

"Don' worry about it, love. I've got it." She nudged his shoulder lightly, giving him a gentle smile. They walked over to the doorway, and Marshall gave Louis a one-armed hug.

"I'll call you tonight, alright Baby Bro?" Louis nodded. Marshall surprised Lyla by sweeping her into a hug and squeezing her tightly to him for a moment. "Take care of him," he whispered in her ear. "He seems tough, but he's easily broken. You'll never find a more loving man, though." As he pulled away, Lyla placed a kiss on his cheek. She nodded in response to his request, and he grinned at her. "When will I get to meet me nephew?" Marshall called to them as they walked down the hallway.

"Never!" Louis shouted back. Lyla started laughing again and she lightly shoved Louis.

"Soon, then?" Marshall teased.

"After the hearing!" Lyla yelled, and he grinned.

---

As Louis and Lyla stepped out onto the sidewalk, Louis nudged her and smirked.

"So much for not letting him get to you."

"Shut up!"

**A/N: Sorry for the long break, everyone! For those of you have been checking up on my profile, you'll have noticed that I kept changing the release date of this chapter (SO SORRY!) because things got incredibly stressful at home. I lost my job, started having trouble with my classes, there was a huge family reunion (which always ends up alienating me from my family), and several of my friendships fell apart. Needless to say, I've been a bit busy. Not to mention that this creative writing class I'm taking is sucking me dry of all creativity. Damn. Anyways, I just wanted to let you all know what was going on -- I update my profile fairly regularly, so check it out for any new info (since chapters don't seem to come as often as you'd all like). Don't hesitate to PM me, either!**

**For those of you who love Lyla's father -- and there are those that do -- please remember that this chapter is from Lyla's perspective. It's kind of hard to be rational and kind in her situation, hmm? Things might cheer up, you never know...**

**I took some liberties with Lyla and Louis' respective ages. In the movie, they didn't look any older after the 11, almost 12 years had passed, and I thought that that was strange and kind of a huge oversight. They never mention their ages, but they certainly don't look that much older than 30 by the time they find August. Not only that, but I highly doubt that Lyla's father would have that much of a say in her life and be THAT big of a pain if she were in her mid-to-late 20's. I hope no one minds... it made sense to me!**

**Also, if you hadn't noticed, I have a playlist of songs for each chapter. I got a lot of requests (I don't know why), so now you all know what I'm listening to while I'm writing. Don't listen for the lyrics (I promise, they will have nothing at all to do with the plot of "Somehow Familiar"), but just have the music playing as background noise, as though you're watching a movie. I have links up in my profile for places where you can listen to the songs while you read along.**

**Don't forget that there is a poll going on regarding whether or not a lemon is going to be written for this story... Please don't forget to vote. I don't want to offend anyone with lemony-material (which would wind me up with both flames AND getting my story removed), so I need to get a certain number of votes before I can proceed. It won't be for a little while, but I'm working on it in advance (tee hee). PLEASE VOTE!**

**And everyone, please don't forget to review! I've had well over 1000 hits, but I only have 33 reviews. Not saying that I'm not happy with each and every review (I love you guys!), but it'd be nice to get some more feedback (both good and bad, if I need it).**

**I hope you enjoyed Chapter 5 -- it's quite a bit longer than my other chapters! Sorry about the lengthy A/N...**

**Thanks for all of your support -- I'll try to work faster this time!**

**-- Ammi**


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